


We Move Together in Unison

by TheLonelyClarinetist



Category: Wild Kratts
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Gen, Multi, Platonic Relationships, esp in the villains' case, i'll explain it more in the intro DSFJJDSFJ, kinda ooc but that's bc of everyone's roles, please dont kill me i'm trying my best, the tortuga crew are all students, the villains are the instructors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 03:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLonelyClarinetist/pseuds/TheLonelyClarinetist
Summary: A series of oneshots documenting a typical season for the Tortuga High School Marching Band. Told in no particular order, unless stated otherwise.





	1. Pre-Show

Hi! Welcome to…something very stupid but we’re rolling with anyway SDFJDSJF

So if you haven’t gotten the gist of what this AU is already from the preview then basically it’s a High School Marching Band AU™ where the Tortuga Crew have been aged down to students, the villains have become Fine Arts instructors, and everyone is one big dysfunctional family yaaay

This doesn’t follow any overarching plotline other than the fact that it’s a state competition year and the band wants to make this season the most memorable one yet. Every chapter is its own individual oneshot unless stated otherwise in the notes and it’s told in no chronological order.

Here’s a list of Who Plays What before we get started:  
  


Martin / Trumpet, Section Leader, Brass Captain

Chris / Saxophone, Section Leader

Aviva / Drum Major, Trombone

Koki / Quads, Drumline Captain

Jimmy / Pit, Marimba

-

Paisley / Head Director

Zach / Assistant Director

Donita / Guard Instructor

Dabio / Assistant Guard Instructor

Rex / Middle School Director, Field Tech

Gourmand / Percussion Director

-

WK Kids / Middle School Students !!  
  


Aight I think that’s it! Let’s get started!!


	2. Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris gets a call from Martin after a bad competition run.

If you squinted and listened hard enough, the performance wasn’t  _as_  atrocious as everybody was saying.

Sure, the drill was a bit wobbly and here were some tuning issues here and there, but overall it wasn’t a total loss. They had the General Effect score to prove it. What killed their chances of placing in the Top Three, however, was the ballad – one infamous moment poor Chris couldn’t bring himself to live down.

In his defense, the mishap wasn’t  _entirely_ his fault. The mics were already poor quality as is, but the downpour that had caught the loading crew by surprise during lunch break finally did them in. Saxophones were loud enough to hear from across the field, sure, but playing a solo up to the stands over 180 kids blowing into their horns with absolutely nothing to amplify your sound  _while_  making it sound as musical as possible was a feat almost Herculean. Top that with a chipped read, and the end result was a horrendous honking noise, silence for almost the entire first quarter of the ballad, and a very embarrassed and disappointed Chris.

The section leader said nothing for the rest of the night. He didn’t cheer when the band’s score was announced – a solid 78.2, an above-average score for so early in the season – and he chose not to give the usual motivational speech for the saxophone bus before the long journey home. That night, the section rode in silence.

Chris’s phone vibration stirred him a few minutes past midnight. Squinting against the stinging light of his screen, he lifted his phone to his face to read the notification.

One text message from his brother, Martin. “How’s the grumpy sax man doing?”

Chris scowled. “Just fine,” he texted back, “til somebody woke me up.”

“Whatever. You and I both know you can’t sleep on a bumpy school bus.”

“You got me there.”

The hum of the bus engine buoyed through Chris’s ears as he waited for a response. The way his back was curled uncomfortably against the window, craned neck thudding against the metal frame, there was no way in Hell he’d have been able to stay asleep for so long. He supposed Martin was right; if his phone hadn’t woken him up, an especially painful bump in the road would.

Another vibration. “Real talk though, are you okay? You were pouty the whole night.”

Chris frowned. Some of the saxes had told him before that his brother’s bombastic trumpet personality was starting to rub off on him, but he didn’t realize that that included his melodramatic side.

“Was it really that noticeable?”

“Bro, EVERYONE could see it.” – A short pause, then – “Are you upset because you messed up the solo?”

A lethargic Chris nodded, but quickly realized that Martin couldn’t see him doing that from the trumpet bus. Instead, he responded with a simple sad face.

Martin’s text bubble popped in and out of view for a moment, then disappeared altogether. Before Chris could close out the app, his phone vibrated again, prompting an incoming call from his brother. Hesitantly, Chris plugged in his headphones and answered.

“I’m too lazy to type out everything I wanna say,” Martin’s voice crackled faintly over the roar of the engine, “so I’m just gonna say it through a call.”

Chris shrugged. “Alright, hit me.”

Martin’s voice faded to the background for a brief moment to trade off the witty banter occurring on his end. A chorus of laughter erupted, and Martin’s voice returned to his mic.

“Listen,” he breathed, trying to shake off the previous laughs, “the run wasn’t  _terrible._  You tried your best, and that’s what matters, bro.”

“But my ‘best’ is what landed us in 5th,” Chris retorted. He brought his knees to his chest and curled into a ball, brow furrowed in disappointment. “This was our first competition, and I blew our chances of starting strong. I let everyone down.”

Martin was quiet for a beat. “You can’t blame yourself for things you couldn’t control,” he began. “If you want something to be upset at, yell at the clouds. They’re the ones that ruined your mic.”

Before Chris could argue, Martin faded to the background again. His headphones exploded as the wind on his brother’s end screamed into the phone. Over the distortion, Chris could hear him yelling out the window and blaming the sky for messing up the band’s equipment, drenching his rant in expletives the wind kindly censored for him.

The wind promptly ceased as Martin settled back into his seat. “I cussed out the sky for you,” he panted, tone laced with triumph. “Maybe next time, it’ll know it messed with the wrong band.”

A laugh bubbled up in Chris’s chest. “You’re an idiot, bro.”

“But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

Chris nodded. He didn’t care whether Martin could see or not; his brother already know the answer.

Martin continued, now in a much calmer voice, “I want you to know that you’re the best saxophone player this school’s ever seen. We still have a ton of chances to show the world what we’ve got – what  _you’ve_  got. Next competition, you’re gonna blow them all away.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Chris’s frown melted away. “Thanks, Martin.”

The brothers exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Placing his phone back in his lap, Chris sat upright and turned his head to look back out the window. Martin was right; the band still had time to build themselves up. Besides, the rest of the saxes  _did_ give him a few consoling words on the way back to the bus. Chris always gave them the mantra of believing in one another, but he supposed the only way to do that was to believe in themselves first. Chris needed to start setting the example.

Opening his phone back up, Chris smiled faintly to himself. Tomorrow, he told himself, he’d be better than before.


End file.
